Hard time keeping up

Chantix Day 30; Quit Day 10

I keep making cards to keep my hands busy. My husband finds this very curious. He comes home from work and finds that half the living room is taken up with my papercrafting supplies, and I shrug and tell him, "Would you like to buy me a pack of cigarettes?"

Truthfully, I'm doing pretty well. No Chantix nausea; continuing vivid dreams that I can live with.

Yesterday Wesley helped to distract me by taking me to a motorcycle dealership.

Wesley (my husband of 20+ years) loves motorcycles. He used to have one, but he sold it a few years ago. I think I always knew that someday he would buy another motorcycle. He's so cute about motorcycles. I mean, it's like watching a little boy's enthusiasm whenever Wesley sees a Triumph.

So we went to a motorcycle dealer and Wesley drooled over the Triumphs that he says he won't buy for another ten years. (He's gonna retire in about ten years, at which point he'll want a motorcycle.) (So he says.)

I was just standing there thinking, "I have already saved a month's payment on this motorcycle... just from not smoking for ten days...."

But I am a selfish, spoiled brat, because I don't want to spend my savings on a motorcycle. I want to spend my savings on *me*.

So after the motorcycle dealership, I took me and Wesley and our son to a hamburger place that costs 'way more than burgers should cost. But OMG, they are divine burgers. I enjoyed that immensely and thanked myself the entire time for not buying cigarettes instead of those burgers!

Then my parrot Cosmo bit the daylights out of me. Long story. I cried and wished I had a cigarette to console me.

The thing is -- I didn't buy cigarettes. I didn't smoke. And I woke up and made it all the way through Thursday without buying cigarettes and smoking, even though I thought about it a lot.

I am not hanging out with Get Quit the way I should -- but somehow I'm making it through despite myself. I just tell myself "no," and I move on. I eat a sugar-free mint; I make a card; I distract myself in one way or another, I keep taking Chantix; And I Haven't Smoked In More Than Ten Days.

That's crazy.

And it's wonderful.

I think I might be a non-smoker in another couple of months.

Wouldn't that be cool?

I think a change, a change would do me good

I woke up this morning with a Sheryl Crow song running through my head.

First of all, I dreamt that I was smoking, and being one of those vivid Chantix dreams, I became very upset. I couldn't remember buying cigarettes; I couldn't remember lighting a cigarette, but there I was in the dream, puffing away.

Upon waking and realizing it was just a dream, I determined that I have had too wimpy an attitude about quitting.

I've now made it 8 entire days without a cigarette. If I fall off the wagon now, I have to do these 8 days all over again. That's about 200 hours out of my life. And they haven't been completely rosy, but they haven't been completely horrid, either. Do I really want to waste these first 8 days for nothing?

So I need to stop thinking such weak, longing thoughts about cigarettes. I just gotta. I don't want to vilify them or the people who still smoke them -- but I can't keep telling myself it's OK for *me* to smoke just because tobacco is legal. That doesn't solve anything.

Thank goodness for Maggie's blog and her blissful Linky Loos. In particular, this morning I found the ingredients list especially inspiring. *Formaldehyde*. For heaven's sake. Formaldehyde! Yeah, I knew it was there, in a vague, "I'm a smoker and I don't care cuz I luvs me my cigarettes" kind of way. But now I'm forcing myself to really consider that. Formaldehyde. Like the stuff that they preserve dead things in before you have to dissect those dead things in biology class. And man, I hated dissecting. It smelled so much like -- formaldehyde!

Can't believe I've been smoking formaldehyde for 22 years.

Definitely time for a change.

After deciding to change my attitude, I had to go back to see the doctor, which was nice. My blood pressure is down, but not down far enough for the doctor's comfort. So I have to take some bp drugs and go back in another 3 months. Hmmmm.

And then I came home and started making cards to keep my hands busy. Well, I had to do something! I've been washing the same windows for days. A change did me good!

Still getting along

Eight days -- eight days without a cigarette. I still can't believe it. Every day I think I'm about to cave in and smoke, and every night I look back at the day and realize that I haven't fallen off the wagon.

I'm sorry, but it must be said: This Chantix stuff is *miraculous*. I never could have made it this far on my own.

It's official, you know -- I haven't gone this long without a cigarette since January/February of 1988. That was my most successful attempt at quitting -- I made it about a month before I had a cigarette. Next to that, I made it four days in early 1997. Four. DAYS.

I am pitiful.

I am also incredibly lucky that someone decided to invent Chantix!

Thanks to everyone for all your support. I'm amazed and still struggling -- I thought today was particularly rough, with lots of moments thinking, "MAN, I want a cigarette!" -- but I got through it. I don't know how, but I'm glad.

I have to go to the doctor's office in the morning -- I hope she says my blood pressure is down! Wish me luck!

Got through another day

Chantix Day 26; Quit Day 6

I made it through another day. I have to be honest and confess that I really wanted to smoke today. I just miss it. I can't explain it. I know, on the logical and reasonable side of my brain, that I have made it through the hardest part in terms of nicotine withdrawal.

On the other hand, I just really want a cigarette.

Part of me longs to actually try one to see if it is as repulsive as some of those later cigarettes were. I mean, in the Chantix scheme of things, some of those last cigarettes just tasted like mud.

But that was, like, only for the last couple of days before I quit. What if... I mean... I mean, for 22 years, cigarettes were heaven on earth. What if I smoked a cigarette, and it tasted great? Would I kick myself? Oh, heck, yeah, I would! I loved smoking. Why did I give this up? I'm crazy.

I'm depriving myself of something I loved!

What is wrong with me?

On the other hand, I look at the bucks racking up on the QuitMeter. At ten dollars a day (or thereabouts), I've already saved $60 easily by not smoking in the last week.

That's cool.

Ten dollars a day. That's *cool*.

But I haven't seen that ten dollars a day yet. Somehow I keep spending it on ... chips and chocolate and lamb chops.

(OK, the lamb chops were totally worth it, as were the marinated asparagus. OMG. I need to share that recipe. The asparagus rocked!)

I do think I'm eating less. That's strange for me. I am not drinking as much; I'm not eating as much; I'm not smoking at all. ... Excuse me, but what is my reason for living?!?!

Seriously, I'll calm down. Or not. Whatever. But tomorrow is my one-week anniversary without smoking, and honestly, right now, what I really want to do to celebrate is... have a cigarette.

Still alive!

Righty-o. If you've never had an abscessed tooth, let me tell you right now, I would rather have to give birth while passing a kidney stone than go through that again. It is by far the worst pain I've ever experienced. And I've experienced all three kinds of pain. So I feel like an expert of the worst kind.

The nights were the hardest, because I desperately wanted to sleep. But the pain kept me awake. That's. Serious. Pain.

While breathing and trying to focus on not being in pain sometime Thursday night, I thought to myself, "I haven't even thought about smoking. If I make it through this abscess, I think I might actually be an ex-smoker."

Of course, Thursday was the day that a strange dentist I don't even know prescribed antibiotics for me. Thank heaven for antibiotics. I had to wait just about 24 hours to feel any kind of let-up in the infection, but once it started, oh, it felt so good!

I slept through last night for the first time since Tuesday night, and that also felt good. Now I'm up and walking around and eating and stuff.

And I have to tell you, now that I feel almost normal --

-- I would really like to have a cigarette.

But I'm aware that the nicotine is now officially out of my system, so really what I want is something to do with my hands. I'm baffled and mystified by this need to do something with my hands. I'm constantly asking, "What do non-smokers DO all the time? Do they just sit still and do nothing? How do they do NOTHING???"

I may have to take up crocheting or knitting or something. Because having nothing to do is kinda driving me crazy.

Irony bites

In searching for good reasons to quit smoking -- y'know, things that don't fall under the category of "because nonsmokers are such wet blankets that I really want to be just like 'em" -- one of the very good reasons to quit was because smoking is bad for your teeth.

I know this to be true because my dentist has told me so a number of times over the last twenty years. "Smoking makes it worse," he says, as he tsk's over my teeth.

Genetics and a poor location for my formative years have combined to give me a really bad set of teeth, anyway. We didn't have fluoride in the city water in the town where we lived when I was a baby. And I didn't have the best genes for strong teeth. So if you add in smoking, what you get is a pretty darned big honkin' mess.

Good thing I quit smoking, huh?

I quit on Monday. Late Tuesday, I bit down on the first bite of my dinner and thought, "Oh, that can't be good."

Wednesday night, I literally couldn't sleep from the pain in my tooth. This must be abscessing.

Now it's late Thursday afternoon. I managed to get to sleep by forcing myself to drink a shot of vodka straight up. Choked, sputtered, went to sleep, thank heaven.

I finally got hold of someone in my dentist's office, and the rotten son of a b**** is away at a conference this weekend. They can't fit me in until next Thursday.

That is impossible. I can't live that long like this.

Now, I haven't spent much time awake today, but I have to say that smoking isn't the first thing on my mind. Except in an ironic vein. I quit smoking. Quitting is supposed to be good for my teeth. Now I have an abscess. Irony bites.

Acceptance is the first step

I Am Iron Woman.

Today was really rough. If I had to grade Wednesday on a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being the least stressful and 10 being the most stressful, then I would have to give today an 8.99. (I'm guessing that in order for it to be a 10, I would have to either kill someone or live through a loved one's death. Those are the only more-stressful things I can imagine. "Moving" would be a 9.8, of course. That's the scale I'm going with.)

(And I hope you understand what I'm talking about.)

Let's see. Today I had writer's block with a deadline, and my daughter and I had a huuuuuge fight and I stomped out of the house and drove around -- not getting out of the car, because I didn't even wear shoes when I stomped out of the house -- and I still didn't buy cigarettes or smoke. I cried. I ranted. I raved. But I didn't smoke.

I watched a movie that's really a little too emotional for someone in my condition to watch. ("Catch & Release," in case you're wondering, and it's not as bad as the reviews might have led me to believe; in fact, I rather liked it.)

I fixed dinner, although, honestly, I hate fixing dinner and desperately wish a miracle would happen to keep me from fixing dinner all the time. (It's been 20 years. I'm tired of fixing dinner. And I would feel badly about that, but all my friends tell me they feel the same way, which is why so many of them are buying those Bertolli frozen things. It's dinner without all the fixing.)

And then, to top off the whole fabulous day, I had a conference call. About stressful stuff. And I had a bad connection to that conference call about stressful things, and I got kicked out of it in the middle of the call, and I don't know why.

Then my favorite contestant got kicked off of "Top Chef."

I still haven't bought any cigarettes, nor have I smoked any, but OMG, I so want to smoke. I so want to.

Did I mention I have a tooth that hurts?

Shoot me now.

Can I sleep through Thursday? Please?

I made it another day. I didn't buy any cigarettes. I didn't drive off a mountain. I am going to make it through tonight and on to Thursday. I am.

Oh, and the Elvis-tribute Reese's cups are fabulous. Reese's cups with banana flavoring added in. I'm not kidding, those things are wonderful. I had absolutely no idea that Elvis was onto something with the disgusting-sounding fried-peanut-butter-and-banana sandwiches. Add in Reese's and chocolate, and it's almost enough to make up for the total lack of tobacco in my life!

Is it getting easier?

I can't tell if it's getting easier.

I definitely had a less-bitter-tasting mouth again this morning. That's weird. My nose is stopped up, though. I can't tell if I'm coughing less.

The funky little faux-cigarettes do come in handy when I'm writing. I have to write a newsletter this afternoon, so I'll probably chew them all down to little toothpicks.

I wrote to a friend of mine and asked him if he had ever smoked or quit smoking, and did he have any encouragement? He wrote back, "I don't give up my vices. I vote Republican." Something about that just absolutely cracked me up.

Off to write a newsletter -- and not smoke --

Non-Smoker Crafts

I have been working on this crazy little project for days. I didn't work on it very hard at first, but since Monday, I've put a lot of time and love into it -- it's my faux-cigarette box. I think you might call it a security blanket. Or a binkie. Whatever you prefer.

I made it with Club Scrap's incomparable papercrafting supplies. I love Club Scrap stuff. I love it all. And now that I'm not smoking, my paper stash is going to smell wonderful always.

Anyway, this is made with the Bistro kit, which came in shades of green, hot pink, orange, and yellow-gold, and featured amazing pencil art. It's very breezy and girlie, which appeals to my innocent side.

After I slaved over the faux-cigarettes (each lovingly snipped from bamboo skewers, painted, inked, and sealed with acrylic sealer), I wrote my Motivations on each of them. Here they are, the reasons I'm trying to quit:
- Feel Better
- Save Money
- Run Anywhere
- Taste More
- Yell Louder (this one made my kids crack up)
- Smell Cleaner
- Healthier Teeth
- Savor Desserts
- Walk Farther
- More Vacations
- Enjoy More
- Climb Higher

Now when I have a craving, I reach for the box, grab a stick, and go cross-eyed reading it while I chew on it.

Very handy. I hardly chanted at all tonight.

I do think -- well, honestly, part of me is grumpy about all this. I want to smoke. I'm not going to lie; I would really love a cigarette. But it's not killing me. And I haven't bought any cigarettes. And I haven't cried. I feel a little annoyed, then I distract myself, and the feeling goes away.

Onward and upward!

Whoa.

Seriously. I woke up this morning and my mouth tasted better. That quickly? I had no idea!

I told Amy last night that right now, my hardest time is right after meals. I don't know what non-smokers do after they eat. To me, finishing the food was a great time to celebrate my successful masticating of life-sustaining nutrients. Have a cigarette! Woo hoo! Party time! I've eaten something, let's smoke!

Last night I clung to my dinnerplate and didn't know what to do. If I took the plate to the sink as usual, then I would feel like it's time to smoke. Same thing this morning with breakfast. Here's my coffee. Here's my hard-boiled egg saucer. Where's my...?

Nope. Didn't smoke. Didn't go out and buy cigarettes.

Having some stress in the car insurance department -- my daughter has her driver's license now and is going to start costing a fortune. I remember when I cost my mother a fortune. I hope I make it through the next few days.

12:50 a.m.!!!!

And I still haven't smoked! I AM IRON WOMAN!!!!!!

OK, not really *iron* woman. But I might be, I dunno, acrylic-lined recycled aluminum woman.

I have to thank Amy for helping me with my Quit Meter. It wasn't wrapping until Amy helped. She's the bomb! I was going to ask her how to fix that, and then my phone rang and she said, "Let me help you with your Quit Meter..." She totally read my mind! How does she *do* that?

Oh, right, *she* is Iron Woman. OK, I'll try not to forget.

Before I go on, I have to point out that I didn't fill out my QuitMeter totally honestly. I know that I reported just a few days ago that my brand of cigarettes now cost $5.25 per pack -- and they do -- NOW -- now that the taxes have been raised. I think to be honest, I should reflect a price closer to normal, before taxes went up. Because let's face it, I smoked for years at the lower tax bracket. Now I'm quitting with higher taxes; I don't think it's fair to say I'm saving all that much more.

OK -- maybe not the most logical thought process in the world, but hey, I quit smoking today. Cut me some slack!

So, I have not had a cigarette since I got up today, and I am still doing really pretty well. When I have a craving, I breathe and I chant positive things at myself. Mostly all I can remember that's positive is, "I smell good." After a while, I might throw in "I'm saving money" and "I'm really NOT smoking." I think I'm going to make it to bed tonight without having had a cigarette all day.

This evening I had to run to the store for some milk. I got the milk, put it on the counter, and when the cashier told me how much I owed, I carefully counted up the money. He said thank you, and I said thank you, and I carefully put my wallet in my purse and started to walk out, which, of course, is when the cashier called, "Don't forget your milk!"

I turned around, embarrassed, shaking my head, and I said to no one in particular, "Yeah... I just quit smoking today..."

And the guy who had been in line behind me absolutely *roared* with laughter. Slapped his knees and guffawed. Even the cashier snorted a little bit in my direction.

I made it through -- well, almost. I guess I'll know I *really* made it through the first day if I wake up tomorrow and my hands still smell great.

Woo hoo!!!!

Quit Date -- today!

So far, so good! Well, actually, I have to admit that it's not *too* bad. The first few hours were a breeze. Wesley and I drove to Knoxville to run some errands, and that helped to keep me occupied right up until we decided to stop for a mid-afternoon snack at a perfectly lovely bistro.

It was a non-smoking establishment, the kind of place I would have complained about if I were still smoking, and as soon as we placed an order for appetizers...

Oh, I wanted a cigarette.

The waitress brought icy-cold water to the table and I tried to drink it, but it was so cold that I just got a headache instead. So there I was, craving a cigarette, nursing my cold head, and starting to flip out, when she brought flatbread and olive oil.

So I ate my way through the craving. Yay, food!

It was a delish place. Table Fifteen -- highly, highly recommend it. It's expensive, though. So save up your pennies before ya go.

Anyway, when we finished and left the bistro, I had another huuuuuuuge craving. I sat there and chanted, "I smell good, I smell good, I smell good, I smell good," until that didn't work any more, and then I chanted, "I'm saving money, I'm saving money, I'm saving money," until the craving went away.

I've been home for about half an hour, and I still smell good, and I'm still saving money.

I might make it! I really think I might!!! This is SO MUCH BETTER than Day 8 was!!!!!!!

I'm so grateful to those bloggers who went before me -- Tasina, Maggie, everyone -- you guys rock.

And of course, my sister Amy rocks. Eleven and a half days without a cigarette *or* Chantix! She Is Iron Woman!

Chantix Day 19, Quit Day -1

All righty -- let's try this again.

I'm quitting tomorrow. Monday, August 20th. That's my drop-dead Quit Date, and I feel much more prepared to face it this time around.

For one thing, I have cut back on smoking so much that I smoked less than a third of a pack of cigarettes today. And the last cigarette? Just twenty minutes ago? Tasted like crud with a fine layer of ick frosting on top. Now, this is what I'm talkin' about!

I have made lists of things to do instead of smoking tomorrow if I should have a craving. The funny thing is -- I smoke in the car. I'm a huuuuge car smoker. Yes, even though my beloved Prius doesn't have an ashtray or a lighter, I just smoke, smoke, smoke, and smoke some more every time I'm in the car.

Usually.

For the last three days, I haven't smoked in my car. And it's not like I'm keeping myself from it. I took my cigarettes and lighter with me, same as usual, but I just totally forgot to smoke while driving all over town. It didn't matter where I was going or what I was thinking -- I just plain forgot to smoke. Friday night, when I realized, "Hey, I haven't smoked in the car," I could have lit up then -- but I didn't. I just drove through the thought without lighting up.

Weird!

And cool. I have to admit, yes, I find it cool.

I was really nervous about Monday until sometime this evening when I realized, "No, I really am ready to try quitting again. I have already cut down this much. I already don't smoke in the car. I really do think I can do this."

So the test is tomorrow. I don't know if I'll be blogging a lot about it, but I think I'm actually looking forward to quitting. Again. I mean, for the first time. I mean -- for the first time, I'm looking forward to quitting again. Does that make more sense? OK! Let's do this!

G'bye, Capri Menthol 120's! Hello, money!

Awwww... toot toot?

I just got a note from my eagle-eyed sister who was reading the Wikipedia definition for Chantix and discovered to her surprise that one of the "common side effects" listed there is... well... um... ahem -- flatulence.

That's. A. Gas.

ROFL! Sorry, no, I'm trying to keep a straight face. It's really funny. I don't remember reading that on the package insert or online before I started taking Chantix! But I, of all people, know that I am incredibly obtuse when I wanna be. Maybe I just ignored all the potentially embarrassing or marginally impolite side effects I might encounter, because, y'know, Southern girls just don't acknowledge certain unpleasant parts of life.

We don't.

We just don't. Southern girls don't spit, burp, cramp, vomit -- we don't even sweat. I will never forget hearing a lady in my mother's living room whispering embarrassedly that it was so hot, she *glowed*, all the while delicately tapping her sweaty forehead with a tissue.

I mean, basically the old gal was apologizing because she had the complete gall to sweat in the summer. In GEORGIA! Where It's HOT, Dang It!!!!

So -- having come from that sort of background, maybe you'll understand why I was amused and surprised to hear that a drug I'm taking might be causing me to behave -- entirely against my control -- in a less than perfectly ladylike manner.

Ahem!

I'm not.

Honestly, though, immediately on the heels of my denial, I have to confess that my next thought was -- perhaps if I had been thusly afflicted, it would have been the cure to the nausea from which I did suffer.

In any case, I haven't felt nauseated in a few days, which is nice. I haven't quit smoking yet. I thought Amy's comments on that last post were awfully nice, and yes, there is a bit of dread about the actually quitting. But as I continue to smoke less and less, I'm just going to keep looking at August 20th as a good date to quit, and I'll aim for that.

Without burping.

Or sweating.

Or anything-else-ing.

I don't know what to write...

I know writer's block happens. It's not really writer's block tonight. It's fear.

I'm scared. I'm afraid to think what tomorrow might be. I'm scared to face what it might not be. I'm just not sure, and I'm trying to hedge my bets.

On the one hand -- I haven't had the Chantix nausea for a few days. And -- I honestly have been smoking less and less, and I get less out of it when I do smoke. For those reasons, I wonder if Saturday is the day I'm gonna quit.

I feel so much more ready to quit than I felt on the 8th of August.

On the other hand... Well, I have tried and failed brilliantly before.

Amy and I talk about it every single time we talk, which is usually twice a day. (Today we only spoke once, but that's a rare occurrence.) She's still doing really well on the patch and hasn't broken down and smoked yet in more than a week. And she's had at least two really wretched days at work. If *I* had had her days, I would've broken down and smoked. But Amy's being really wonderful and strong and logical.

Me? I'm an emotional wreck. I always have been.

I almost quit today. Almost. I was awake, had breakfast, drove around town, and went back home before I had my first cigarette. The whole time, I had cigarettes available to smoke -- I just didn't want them and when I had fleeting thoughts of, "I could have a cigarette now," I just ignored them and went on. I had been going about in the world for two and a half *hours* before I had a cigarette. And it tasted an awful lot like mud.

So... why did I have that cigarette? Or the next one, which I had sometime after lunch?

I don't know. Habit. I guess.

Part of me is listing ways to get through cravings -- brush my teeth, drink water, breathe, distract myself, do crunches, walk around the yard -- and part of me is listing reminders of why I want to quit smoking. Sometimes those reminders stop after one: "Save Money." Sometimes I'm actually lucid enough to think, "Feel Better. Walk Farther. Taste More Desserts. Smell Sweeter."

Let's face it, even though I haven't totally quit yet, I'm doing so much better than I ever thought possible. I need to count my blessings and get on with the quitting! Amy's gonna fly home and whomp me upside the head if I don't get my rear in gear!

And... even though I will miss smoking, and I will definitely miss all those lovely friends I've met in the smoking areas... I really *do* need to do this. I do. I'll save a ton of money and have so much more fun than the tax collectors ever would. All I have to do is stop buying cigarettes and smoking them.

Maybe Saturday.

Maybe.

We'll see.

The end in sight?

No nausea today, yay! That was a relief. I do feel much sleepier in the afternoons than usual.

I've forgotten to write about the vivid Chantix dreams. I don't know why I keep forgetting; I guess it's because they're not traumatic or deeply disturbing dreams. They're just really vivid. I sometimes can't figure out if I dreamed it or if it was real. There was one dream in particular that confused me, because I thought I put up all the clean dishes and reloaded the dishwasher with nothing but glasses. But I didn't.

C'mon, that's just weird.

I'm just going along right now, aware that my quit date is coming up, and thinking that I might quit before then. I'm not sure. Goodness knows I'm smoking far less than I used to, and I do put the cigarettes out more quickly.

I think Amy is getting anxious for me to quit and join her in the realm of the ex-smoking. She's doing *so* well!!!

I'm just a big scaredy-cat because I've tried before and failed. Will it work this time? Can I get through those weak moments?

Gosh, I hope so. There are so many better things to spend my money on. Like more glasses to fill up the dishwasher!

Day 14, not quit yet

OK, let's be honest: I've been taking Chantix for two weeks now. And as it continues to build up in my blood stream, I can so see a difference. It's not ... *easy*. But it's *different*. And it gives me hope.

But I haven't stopped smoking yet.

But, OMG, today was another good day. I hardly smoked at all, and I didn't have the nausea. YAY!

For those of you who have a very negative image of smoking, well, all I can say is, I'm not entirely aligned with your way of thinking.

I don't hate smoking. I don't hate cigarettes. I don't hate myself for smoking. In point of fact -- I think it might have behooved the scientific society to work on making tobacco safe and healthy instead of just making smokers feel like vilified third-class citizens. But that's not what they worked on -- they just worked on the peer pressure against smokers.

Well, gosh, that was one option. Okie dokie. WhatEV.

So... yeah. If you want to beat me up for my "bad" attitude, OK. But you gotta know -- eventually I'm just going to delete your comments.

In any case, I smoked less today, and I *wanted* to smoke less today, and that was entirely Chantix and not me. And furthermore! The nearest store that stocks my cigarettes is also going to stop ordering the Capri Menthol 120's. Which is just going to keep helping to make this quitting thing easier and easier.

Did you see the news item that states in which tax has been raised horribly... are experiencing more people quitting smoking? Tennessee raised the tax by 42 cents this summer -- so I'm sure we're one of the states in which smoking is decreasing.

That's both weird -- and encouraging. I'm scared to pieces of being around people who smoke. Somehow I just know that if I smell the cigarette smoke, I'm going to have a craving.

That makes me sad on some level.........

In the meantime, my brilliant sister made it through Day 6 on the nicotine patch -- *and* she forgot to change the patch before she went to work, which made for about four hours of sincere worry on my part. But she made it through the added stress!!!!! Amy rocks!!!!!!!!!

I look forward to joining her on the ex-smoking bandwagon, and still being nice to all my lovely friends who do still smoke!

Just another manic Monday

How long have I been on Chantix now? Almost two weeks. I only have one day of pills left in the second package. Daaaaaang. I'm beginning to get used to the stuff.

Actually... OK, I'm going to be honest. I know my fabulous sister Amy reads the blog, so Amy -- don't beat me up, OK? (Amy is SUCH A GODDESS OF SELF-CONTROL!!!!!!!!! She still hasn't smoked -- it's been FIVE DAYS!!!! I want to be like her if I ever grow up.)

OK. Today was rough. And I haven't even quit yet. I've got a whole week to get ready to quit. But oh, if there are lots of days like today, I am not looking forward to that August 20th Quit Date.

I wanted cigarettes today. I'm still hardly smoking anything compared to two weeks ago, but ... I know I've smoked almost a pack today. And that was with me holding myself back from lighting up every time I wanted to smoke. I'm sitting here, right now, looking at my dwindling pack of cigarettes and thinking, "I surely would like to have one of those right now."

At the very same time, today was one of the really badly nauseated days. I took my pill this morning on a totally full stomach, and I still got whomped upside the head [<-- that's an authentic Tennessee expression] with the nausea. I think I slept more than I was awake today, just in an effort to get away from the nausea. At one point, I was really scared I was going to.... y'know... worship the porcelain god. [I'm Southern. We use euphemisms for unpleasant things.]

There is this part of me -- this juvenile, immature, stubborn, wrong part of me -- that says, "I'm a grown-up! Tobacco is legal! I Can, Too, Smoke!!!!"

I have heard from that voice before. That's the voice that has ruined me every time I've tried to quit. I've got to stop listening to that stupid, whiny, petty little voice in my head.

When I have saved up my cigarette money, I'm going to take a cruise to the Bahamas. I need to apply for a passport, but I've decided that is what I'm doing with my cigarette money. Anyone who wants to come with -- well, just hollah.

[NOTE: I bought a single pack of cigarettes today for the first time in ages. I mean, I have bought singles over the last week or so, but with gum or Diet Dr. Peppers or whatever. So I didn't know EXACTLY how much my cigarettes cost. I was pleasantly deluded that way for ... years. So. It turns out. My cigarettes. Capri Menthol 120's. Cost. FIVE DOLLARS AND TWENTY-FIVE CENTS PER PACK!!!!!! I am so not making that up. And I am, of course, totally horrified. And simultaneously overjoyed. Because, man, I am going to save a fortune when I quit!]

[Can you tell I'm a little manic by all my yelling and exclamation points? I apologize. Rough day. Honest.]

Blech!

Guess what! I was awake for an hour before I even wanted a cigarette, and then when I lit it -- ewwwww! Tasted like mud. Blech! ... And... YAY!!!!

Weekends are wild

I'm still cutting down on smoking, but I haven't felt like it much lately. Those fleeting feelings of "this is more trouble than it's worth" that I felt on the second or third day of low-dose Chantix? Gone. Wish they would come back to visit.

On the other hand, I do find that I can go much longer in between cigarettes than I used to. My fabulous brother-in-law is in town, and this afternoon we all went out to lunch. I had to ride in a non-smoking car for fifteen minutes to a non-smoking restaurant where we had to sit there and eat, not smoking, for something like an hour, and then there was another fifteen-minute non-smoking ride back home.

Now, a couple of weeks ago, I probably would have stood outside in the 100-degree parking lot behind the restaurant and smoked a cigarette after lunch before getting back into the non-smoking rental car. But today? I just zipped along, almost like a non-smoker, and when I got home and got comfortable, it was still about fifteen or twenty minutes before I thought, "Hey, I want a cigarette."

That's progress, man!

I am noticing how automatically I reach for cigarettes without thinking about it. It reminds me of a man who quit smoking back in the 80's. He said he almost tore the pockets off his shirts reaching for his cigarettes without thinking about it.

I don't know how anyone ever quit smoking cold turkey. Seriously. I don't know how they did it, but they have my eternal awe.

And in other news, my smart sister Amy is still going strong on her quest to quit. YAY, AMY!!!!!!! You Are Iron Woman!!!!!!

She has my eternal awe, too!

Gonna go bake a coconut cake now..... Well, really, it's a white cake. It'll be coconut after it has been embellished somewhat.

For anyone who's curious, here's my family coconut cake recipe. It's killer.

Coconut Cake

Ingredients:
- 1 box white cake mix
(eggs, water, oil, as directed)
- 1 cup milk
- 1 cup sugar
- Large container Cool Whip topping
- Angel sweetened flake coconut

Directions:
- Bake one box of white cake mix, as directed, for the 13x9 pan directions.
- After you get it out of the oven, mix together one cup milk and one cup sugar. Heat over low to a slow boil while stirring.
- Poke holes all over the cake; pour milk & sugar mixture slowly and evenly all over the cake, allowing it to drip into the holes.
- Let the cake cool completely.
- When it's utterly cool to the touch (on top and on the bottom of the pan), spread a large container of Cool Whip all over the cake.
- Add Angel sweetened flake coconut all over the Cool Whip. Actually, you should use a whole package of the flake coconut, and pressed it into the Cool Whip so that it's *really* saturated with coconut.
- Cover and refrigerate overnight.
- In between servings, keep it covered and in the fridge. It'll spoil if you leave it out of the fridge. And trust me, spoiled coconut cake has been known to make grown men cry.

I know it sounds too simple to be good -- but it's just deadly. Cross my heart and hope to die. Oh, wait. I'm quitting smoking in the hopes of *not* dying. OK -- cross my heart and hope to quit smoking!

new latest possible last chance drop dead quit date

I am so lovin' Maggie's way of putting things! This post's header comes to you compliments of Maggie, my idol.

I was going to post a couple more thoughts tonight before crashing, anyway, and this just makes it more fun.

First of all, I am not gettin' the GetQuit emails on a regular basis. I wonder if that's because so many people are getting the Chantix prescription and signing up for GetQuit? And I wish them all luck! Whoever they are! But I'm missing my regular notes from GetQuit. I forget to check the website for *hours* if I don't get the email.

That glitch sort of messed with my last Quit Date -- the GetQuit email told me to throw out my ashtrays and clean up my house, which I had already read about on the day before. I never did get any supportive info for the actual Quit Date. And I didn't notice that until I had already caved in and had a cigarette.

Oh, well, live and learn! I'm sure it'll be better next time around. I'll set alarms for myself on my cell phone -- just to remember to check the website in case I don't get a daily email.

Secondly, I did go ahead and choose another Quit Date -- the "new latest possible last chance drop dead quit date," as Maggie says. August 20th. I love that when I did check in today, the website asked me two questions first; the usual "are you taking your Chantix?" and the more unusual, "Did you quit smoking?" I was able to honestly answer, and they prompted me to set a new Quit Date. So that's what I did.

I can do it! I hope I can. I just keep hearing from more and more friends who know someone who quit with Chantix. An old classmate of mine (who is a pharmacist) emailed me tonight to say that she's hearing incredible things about Chantix and has in fact urged her husband to try it as a result.

Too cool!

Day 9 on Chantix

I'm really sorry I didn't post earlier today -- I meant to, but somehow I didn't.

Oh! I remember what happened. I had the nausea after this morning's pill. As I was telling my sister Amy, I think I know when to expect the ickiness now. About a day and a half after the dosage increases, the nausea increases. It's OK -- I just lie on the couch until it passes.

I do feel a little bit scummy about not making it through Wednesday without a cigarette. On the other hand, the moment I got a pack of cigarettes and could control my own intake,... my desire tapered off. I've not smoked half a pack today. Seriously! And sometimes I totally forget that I'm not smoking. OK, yeah, I was nauseated for a few hours and that may have helped. But after dinner? I wasn't nauseated, and I wasn't smoking. Can ya explain that??? Not without Chantix, you can't!

My sister is doing faaaaaaaaabulously on the patch!!! She has made it 22 hours without a cigarette -- go, Amy!!!! She told me, "I don't want to have a cigarette after all this time because if I do, I'll just have to quit again, and then I'll just have to go through the first 22 hours again, and I Don't Want To Repeat THAT."

Smart girl!!!!!!

Amy always was smarter than I. Remind me to smack her -- as soon as we've saved up our cigarette money for a fabulous cruise to some paradise. I'll smack her really hard, and then we can have a fruity adult beverage and look at the sunset without being interrupted by my hacking smoker's cough.

Tee hee!

Still looking forward to quitting; still wondering if I can be as good as others before me! And *still* taking my Chantix, even though sometimes it makes me sick!

Didn't make it

Well. I made it 20 hours and ten minutes if you include sleep hours.

I made it 11 hours and forty minutes if you just count the waking hours.

My kids are shocked and amazed I made it this long -- they've seen other cessation methods come and go, after all. And they read some of the Chantix blogs and seem to have really picked up on that "maybe 7 days of Chantix isn't enough for some people" theory.

I'm not gonna fall apart. I'm going to keep taking the Chantix, pick another Quit Day, and try again. I've read too many success stories to give up on myself too quickly. This battle is not over.

The day was, I have to say, very, very difficult, and I spent most of it just trying to get through one minute to the next. *Exhausting*. We worked on installing the new faucet, and at one point in the afternoon, hot and frustrated, I threw down a crescent wrench and yelled at the top of my lungs, "I JUST WANT A CIGARETTE, DANG IT!" I made it through that moment and a whole bunch of others.

But when I was watching TV in the evening... Oh, my gosh, I thought I was gonna die. I was crawling out of my skin. I wanted to smoke so badly. I tried to walk it off; I tried to breathe it out. I drank a glass of water. (And man, I do not like water.) I drank a Diet Dr. Pepper in gulps. (Because caffeine and fizz are so lovely any time.) I tried to play with paper. I tried to stamp a card. I tried to just sit still and concentrate on the TV.

I cried.

That's when I realized, OK, I am not ready for this quite yet.

I called my sister, I went out, and I bought a pack of cigarettes. I drove all the way home. (I live in the boonies, so I have to actually *drive* ten miles to get to a convenience store that's open past 10:00 at night.) I sat down, turned down the volume on the TV, and opened the pack of cigarettes sloooooowly. Relished it. Smoked the cigarette and nearly cried again from the relief.

Yeah. I think it was too soon to try to quit.

Oh, one strange little note: The pack of cigarettes I bought isn't even my regular brand. No one around here carries them, because I warned my nearest store that I was going to quit, and the owner didn't order any more of the Capri Menthol 120's. So I really am gonna hafta quit. I'm affecting the entire economic stability of my whole neighborhood!

3.5 hours

I've been awake for three and a half hours -- unbelievable, I know, but every time I started to wake up this morning, I talked myself into going back to sleep under the conviction that if I woke up, I would just want a cigarette.

And I was fairly correct. I do want a cigarette. It's not like cold-turkey, when I was shaking and crying and couldn't function like a human being, and it's not like the nicotine patch, when I was just shaking a little and simply WANTED THE CIGARETTE. No crying involved. No, this is a mild, "Hey, there's something missing here," kind of feeling.

And it's pretty constant.

I'm wondering if I shouldn't have put my Quit Date off until the weekend. Not that the weekend is any easier -- it's just that the Chantix would have built up in my system somewhat. I dunno.

Right now I just keep telling myself, "I'm saving money. I made it half an hour. I'm saving money. I made it thirty-five minutes. I'm saving money. I made it an hour."

And so it goes.

The "quit strategies," the ones I was supposed to refer to when I had a craving? They're not helping much.

I'll go distract myself now.

Almost there...

I'm almost to my Quit Day.

I haven't mentioned it on this blog yet, but I'm a night person. I stay up late; I sleep late. I'll be waking up around 11:00 or noon on Wednesday, August 8th, and I won't be having a cigarette with my morning coffee.


That pack in the picture? I'm hoping it's my last. I'm going to destroy any remaining cigarettes before I go to sleep tonight. My sister Amy -- she of the brilliant parody below -- suggested that I run over it with my beloved Prius. I adore my car. It doesn't even have an ashtray or a cigarette lighter. We think the symbolism of letting my beloved Prius do the dirty work is awesome!

But darn it, I have to confess -- I'm scared. I've tried to quit before, and I'm such a weenie. Smoking is so automatic for me. The GetQuit program has had me analyzing my triggers, and I have to confess that one of the major triggers for me is boredom. That's not even an option on the GetQuit surveys! I watch TV, I smoke. I eat, I smoke. I surf the Internet, I smoke. I drive, I smoke. Of course I smoke with my first cup of coffee and after meals. But honestly, I just smoke all day long.

This is so stupid! That's something Amy (my brilliant sister) mentioned the other day, how stupid smoking is. Why do I smoke when I'm bored? Can't I think of anything better to do? Of course I can; I've made lists of things to do when I have a craving.

... But...

I'm scared.

Please let me get through Wednesday afternoon. Just the afternoon, that's all I want; I just want to make it to dinner before I fall apart.

I've laid in a stockpile of toothpaste. I have lists of things to do when I have a craving. I'm working on a nifty papercraft thing. I'll watch the hummingbirds. I'll work on wrestling the old faucet out of the sink so I can install the pretty new faucet.

Lots of things to do. I can do this. I can. I can. I can. I hope I can.

A Song Parody

My sister -- my totally brilliant sister -- wrote this for those of us trying to quit using Chantix. I love it! She gave me permission to share. Yay!

- To the tune of They Call the Wind Mariah

- {Ahem.}

Away out here they have a name
For those who play with fire.
When we light up, they scowl and point,
And they call my type "pariah."

Pariahs blow our smoke around
And set the crowds a-flyin'.
Pariahs know our habit means
That we will soon be dyin'.

Pariah...pariah...
They call my type pariah.

Now I'm fed up with coughs and stink,
And prices have me whinin',
And furthermore, I cannot smoke
Where other folks are dinin'.

So I got me some helpful drugs
This Chantix is the good stuff.
I'll get this monkey off my back
And powder's all I'll puff.

Pariah...pariah...
My clothes won't catch on fire.
Pariah...pariah...
My health won't be so dire.
[Big finish!]
Pariah...pariiiiiaaaaahhhh....
They won't call me pariah!

Nausea-free Tuesday

I love the days without nausea!

Emily -- who just got her driver's license last week -- leapt up this morning and drove to town to buy me a pork chop biscuit so I would have a substantial breakfast before my dose. Total sweetie! She's really looking forward to my quitting this time.

Peer pressure is good, right?

Wesley and I had a lengthy conversation about Chantix and my trying to quit. He asked me if I want him to quit. But he smokes big, horribly stinky cigars. I've never smelled a cigar and thought, "Ooo, yummy, I want one of those." So I can't imagine that his smoking is going to bother me. It's not like it's real smoking.

Still blowing smoke rings to say goodbye to the cigarettes -- working on a little papercraft doodad for my self-motivation -- and I bought a new faucet to install in the kitchen. New water tap, new me, right?

I'm a little nervous about tomorrow, but I'm just trying to enjoy today.

Edited to add: I didn't get an email from GetQuit this morning! Where's my Daily Activity??? What'm'I s'posed to do without my GetQuit Activity????

Farewell to Cigarettes

Dear Capri Menthol 120's,

I never had a cute nickname for cigarettes. I never called them cigs or 'rettes, cancer sticks or -- as Britney Spears says -- "Mommy's lollipops." So to call you something cute now seems ridiculous, especially since I'm writing this to say goodbye.

I started smoking when I was 18 years old, a freshman at Hollins. Strangest thing -- at my high school, only the rednecks smoked. When arrived at Hollins, the most expensive women's college in Virginia, loaded with rich girls and daddys' girls and scholarship girls, I was surprised to find out that not smoking was weird. The girls and professors would bring their own ashtrays to class, light up, and smoke throughout the lectures and poetry readings.

I resisted for several months, but as spring began turning the world green, I gave in. I bought a pack of clove cigarettes -- yes, cloves! -- and sat on the lawn in front of the music building with my friend Shelley, and I taught myself to smoke. Finally, I had something in common with all those self-assured, confident rich girls.

The switch to Marlboros was easy and logical -- they were less expensive than clove cigarettes.

That summer, I went to work at camp and one night on a counselors boat trip, one of my co-workers said, "Oh, try a menthol! They're so coooooool going down your throat. You've got to try it!" And I tried it, and honestly, that's when I became well and truly hooked. I tried smoking a Marlboro after that and it tasted stale and icky. I threw away half a pack and walked a mile or two to the nearest store to get a couple of packs of menthol cigarettes. I'm trying to remember the brand. I did like the flip-top box, so I think I started smoking Virginia Slims Lights Menthols. It was either that or Benson & Hedges Deluxe Ultra Light Menthols. Try buying a pack of those when you've been to a sorority party. I dare ya.

I'm a writer, so I could go on forever with these nostalgic memories. I remember that during those early years, when smoking was still allowed in most public places, strangers would actually walk up to me and compliment me on the *way* I smoked. They said I held the cigarette so elegantly. I think that was my theatre background -- I did tend to treat a cigarette like a prop.

When I started dating my husband, he would light my cigarettes for me as if he were a gentleman, until we had been dating for about two months. One night he picked up my lighter and started to reach across the table, stopped, and said, "Nope. I'm not going to help you kill yourself." I thought it was cute.

I taught myself to blow smoke rings one summer by smoking in front of the mirror a lot. I can still do it. I did it just last night for old time's sake. And because I might not ever do it again.

And that brings me to today -- and why I'm quitting smoking. It isn't because I don't like it. I do. I like taking a break now and then to smell the roses, watch the hummingbirds, drink a cup of coffee, and have a cigarette. And I absolutely adore smokers themselves. Judgmental non-smokers are a bane on the face of the earth, and if I become one of them, my sister has my permission to run over me with one of her cute little cars.

No, I'm quitting because it's getting too expensive. And while I like tobacco and love smokers, I have to admit, I can't climb a flight of stairs the way I used to. My teeth aren't as white and perfect as some people'e are. And I really resent the way the non-smokers are making tons of money off my cigarette taxes. They totally don't deserve that money. *I* do. I deserve my money. I can use it for all sorts of fun stuff for me, instead of letting the judgmental, un-fun, non-smoking governments (state AND federal) use my money for un-fun stuff.

It may not be the kind of reason that works for everyone, but it's my reason. And that's why I'm saying goodbye to cigarettes.

G'bye, little Capris.

Smooches,
Bay

Oops.

I should've continued my postings yesterday -- I was going to give a brief personal background and catch up on my Chantix side effects so far. Now I have an assignment that'll take some time. Darn it.

OK -- brief Chantix history:
Tues., July 31st -- Doctor prescribed Chantix; I picked it up from the pharmacy (insurance doesn't cover it), and I read the package insert and surfed the Web trying to find info about it.

Wed., Aug 1st -- Started taking Chantix. Brief, mild nausea for the first hour after I took the first pill.

Thurs -- Brief, mild nausea for the first hour after I took it. Later that evening, I noticed that I was putting out cigarettes half-finished. It was as if it was too much trouble to keep them lit.

Fri -- Terrible nausea. All Day Long. Did nothing but lie on the couch, not eating, hardly smoking.

Sat -- Still took the next pill even after living through Friday. Brief, mild nausea for less than a half hour. Took *another* pill that night (increasing the dosage) -- no discernible nausea.

Sun., Aug. 5th -- Kept taking pills, started the Travail Blog. Pretty significant nausea after the second pill Sunday night. Kept smoking.

And that brings us to today, and I'll be posting more later, I'm sure.

Right now I have to write my goodbye letter to cigarettes. I think it's funny/strange/coincidental that the GetQuit program requires a goodbye letter, since I had already intended to write one -- well, a *version* of one -- on this blog. Great minds think alike?

Work, work, work, work, work

I've been considering starting another blog for a few days, and today while writing the notes for the podcast that my sister and I publish, I decided, what the heck, I"ll do it. I'll need a safe place to go when I get frustrated and grumpy, anyway.

The name of the blog came to me this morning. My other blog is Bay's Travel Blog. I started it on assignment from a scrapbooking magazine 'way back in December, 2004. I spent four or five feverish days trying to figure out how to blog, calling my sister and crying. I already had trip reports that I could post -- and goodness knows I had tons of pictures. I had to get the whole designed, written, set up and posted before I could make a layout to send to the magazine. They did a screen capture of my blog, and voila -- Bay's Travel Blog was born.

It morphed quickly into a normal blog, though. I really don't travel enough to maintain a good travel blog.

So with a name like Bay's Travel Blog preceding, I thought it was pure genius to name this one Bay's Travail Blog. I expect that quitting smoking will be work. And goodness knows I'm suffering because of it. I like smoking. And I love smokers. And I wouldn't be quitting, except that it has gotten too expensive to keep smoking. I want to use that money for more fun things.

But I'll get to that later. For now, welcome to Bay's Travail Blog. If you came here for info about Chantix, I'll be posting more about it soon.

Cross my heart and hope to die.